Mercy Street (22 page)

In her mind’s eye she saw Sally standing in her doorway, saw the look of curiosity in her eyes when she first spied the car that had pulled up. Then there’d been that loud and unexpected blast that had stunned her and had blown Sally away, leaving her to slump onto Mallory. She could remember feeling for her gun, but her hands had been too slippery to hold on to it. Then that sense of helplessness had swept over her as she’d tried to keep Sally on her feet, even while she’d known the woman was dead. Remembering was worse than the worst dream she’d ever had.

Mallory shuddered, sick inside.

“I would never put you in danger, Sally. I never have,”
she’d said.

“That’s God’s truth…”

Shaken by the memory, she stood and walked to the bathroom. She paused in the doorway, expecting to see her bloody clothes, but they were gone. She looked in the hamper, but they weren’t in there, either. When she was finished in the bathroom, she stood at the top of the steps. The house was very quiet, and she assumed Charlie had left.

He’d been wonderful to her yesterday, she remembered that. Kind and sweet and thoughtful and strong. The knowledge that he’d stripped her of her clothes and showered her should have caused her to blush, but didn’t. That he’d cared enough to do that for her so that she wouldn’t have to do it herself—now, that made her heart beat a little faster.

She was almost to the stairwell when she heard sounds from the first floor.

Please God, not again.
She froze, one hand on the railing.

“Mal?” Charlie’s voice called up to her.

“Yes.” She cleared her throat and tried to ignore the fact that, for a moment, her knees had gone weak.

“Was that Linda Bauer on the phone?” He’d come to the bottom of the steps and was looking up at her.

“I missed the call,” she told him, and turned back to the bedroom for her bag and phone.

She looked up the last incoming call. It was a local number, and it took a minute for her to recognize it.

“Oh,” she called down to him. “It’s the Bauers’ number. I guess Linda finally got my message.”

She hit the button to return the last call and waited for someone to pick up. When she heard Linda’s voice, she said, “Linda, hi. It’s Mallory Russo. I just missed a call from this number a minute ago.”

“That was me,” Linda told her. “I meant to call you last night, but I had to work late. By the time I got your message, it was too late to call. You said it was important, but I’m guessing you haven’t found Courtney or you’d be much more excited than you are.”

“No, we haven’t found them yet, but I do have a lead that might work out. I’ll definitely let you know about that. In the meantime, we need to talk about Misty.”

“What about her?”

“I’m almost positive that she knows where Courtney and Ryan are.”

“Impossible.” Linda brushed off the possibility. “If she knew, she’d have told me, and we’d have gone there and brought her home.”

“That’s exactly why she didn’t tell you, Linda. Courtney doesn’t want to be found. She’s afraid you’ll come after her. I think Courtney made her sister promise not to let anyone know where they are.”

“That’s crazy. Why would she do that? Of course I’d come for her. She’s my daughter.” Linda’s voice rose in anger. “Why would she put me through this, put Mary Corcoran and everyone else through this?”

“Because Courtney knows that the police weren’t the only ones looking for them.” She explained her theory to Linda.

“Oh, dear God,” Linda gasped. “You think this woman…this killer…is looking for Courtney?”

“I do. And I think she suspects that Courtney’s been in touch with Misty, and I think she’s been keeping an eye on her.”

“Misty? She’s been watching Misty?” The panic in Linda’s voice was unmistakable.

“I think so. I suspect she’s been in contact with Misty, but I have no proof of that. I asked Misty but she denied it.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?”

“Because all I had were suspicions, Linda. I don’t know that it would have helped your situation to know what I suspected since I had no proof.”

“And now you do?”

Mallory debated on whether or not to tell Linda about Sally.

“Let’s just say that now my suspicions are stronger.”

“Dear God.” Linda began to cry. “I couldn’t take it if something were to happen to Misty.”

“We’re going to do our best to make sure that nothing does, Linda.” Even as she spoke the words, Mallory knew there was little she could do to protect the younger Bauer daughter short of asking Joe to put a guard on her. Which might not be a bad idea, she reasoned. “Linda, has Misty left for school yet?”

“About fifteen minutes ago. She had to be in early for some project she’s working on.”

“What time does school let out?”

“Two forty-five.”

“With your permission, I’d like to ask Father Burch to keep Misty there when school is over until we can have someone pick her up and bring her home,” Mallory offered.

“Could you do that?”

“Sure. If I have to, I’ll drive over and pick her up myself.”

“Maybe I should bring her home. Maybe I should take the day off and—”

Mallory interrupted. “I think the best thing everyone can do right now is to maintain their normal routine. She might be better off in school, where there are a lot of people around her.”

“You’re probably right.” Linda sighed deeply. “And you don’t even know for sure that your theory is the right one, do you?”

“No. It’s the only one we have right now, but no. We aren’t certain of anything. Which is why we haven’t had this discussion sooner. I didn’t want to upset you unnecessarily. You already have enough to worry about.”

“I appreciate that, please don’t think I don’t.” Linda paused, then said, “I got a call from my ex yesterday. He’s agreed to work on bringing us up-to-date with child support.” She paused again.

“That’s terrific, Linda. I’m glad to hear it.”

“Yes, well, all that back support isn’t going to be of any use if something horrible happens to both my kids.”

“We’re doing our best to prevent that, Linda,” Mallory told her. She ended the call praying that their best was going to be good enough.

TWENTY-FOUR

M
allory handed Charlie a cup of coffee.

“I can’t believe you slept on my sofa all night. You were so sweet to do that.” She took a sip from her mug. “But what about your mother? Was she all right by herself?”

“She wasn’t by herself. She and one of her friends—her oldest friend who is her most loyal drinking buddy, by the way—had a girls’ night last night after the AA meeting.”

“Was that a good idea? With your mom going into rehab in a few days?”

“Gail went to AA with her. She and my mom apparently spent most of the night talking things out. Upshot is that Gail’s thinking now might be a good time for her to stop drinking, too.”

“Wow. That would be great for both of them.”

“Yeah, it would. We’ll see if either or both of them make it. I hope they do. Might be easier for them if they have each other to do things with—things besides meet at the corner bar. On the other hand, it might be more difficult in the long run. If one of them leaves rehab before completing the program, or later falls off the wagon, it could hurt the other’s chances of succeeding. But at least they’re both making an effort right now. We’ll see what happens.”

“Well, I appreciate you staying here with me.”

“I couldn’t very well leave you alone.”

“You could have. I slept like the dead.” She made a face. “Poor choice of words.”

She took a sip of coffee before asking, “Charlie, what happened to my clothes?”

“Joe sent someone over to pick them up last night. I put them in a bag and handed them over. You were out cold, so I didn’t bother to wake you.”

“They wanted my clothes for evidence?”

He nodded.

“Thanks.” She took another sip. “I want to fill you in on my conversation with Linda Bauer.”

When she finished, she added, “Before I came downstairs, I called Father Burch. He’s going to track down Misty’s schedule, and they’ll be keeping an eye on her. And he’s having the school on a very quiet lockdown.”

“Why doesn’t he just tell Misty what’s going on and lock her in the office for the day? What the hell is a ‘quiet’ lockdown?”

“He doesn’t want to scare her, so he’s not going to isolate her. And quiet lockdown, according to Father Burch, means that all the doors except the front door will be locked, and he’ll be hanging around the front for the day.”

“Oh, right. A man in a white collar and a black suit should have no trouble turning back a gun-toting psychopath. Good idea.” Charlie frowned. “Then again, maybe he’ll be able to stop her dead with one of those big crosses.”

“Very funny. Let’s just hope that we’re wrong about Regina using Misty to get to Courtney. Maybe we’re giving her too much credit. Maybe she isn’t as smart as we think she is.”

“I think she’s smarter.”

Mallory turned on the power to her DVD player. “This is it. If the answer is here, we have to find it now. Today. We’re out of time, Charlie.”

“Are you sure you feel up to this?”

“I really don’t have a choice.”

Charlie took a seat on the sofa opposite the television screen. There’d been no reason to reply. She was right and he knew it. They were down to the wire. They could not take the chance that Regina Girard—or anyone else—was looking for the two teenagers.

Mallory sat next to Charlie and pushed
START
on the remote. Blue sky filled the screen as the title—
Hidden Paths to Freedom: A Film by Ryan Corcoran
—appeared.

“He starts this so well, don’t you think?” Mallory pointed to the TV. “His film teacher was justifiably proud. Watch the screen off to the right; see that small dot against the sky?”

“I’m watching. I hadn’t noticed that before.”

They both leaned forward as the dot grew larger and took the shape of a hawk that rode a shaft of air ever higher.

“He captures that feeling of freedom, you see? Now watch as the camera comes back down to earth. Watch that grove of trees there, the ones next to that barn.”

Shadows shifted and moved along the tree line toward the barn.

They watched three figures emerge from amid the trees and slip along the side of the barn, where a door opened and closed so quickly they’d have missed it if it hadn’t swallowed up the three moving shapes.

“And just that quickly, three more runaway slaves moved closer to safety. Closer to freedom,” Charlie said quietly.

The camera closed in on the barn, then swept the farm quickly.

“Does that place look familiar to you?” she asked.

“It’s hard to tell, he panned the landscape so fast. I reran this section several times already this morning, but I don’t know. Maybe in slow motion.”

“We can come back to that. Keep watching. There are about eight different places on this film. Did you recognize any of them?”

“Maybe. I’m not sure. I might know a few of them.”

They watched mostly in silence, with only an occasional comment from Charlie. Finally, when they’d come to the end, he said, “There are images from that first farm in several other places throughout the film, though it’s not really apparent if you don’t know the place. The tractor in the wheat field, the well with the red scarves tied to the crosspiece, and the second-floor hayloft in that last frame. I’m almost positive it’s the old Mansfield place out near Druid’s Hill. There are three or four other places there that I recognized as well.”

“Is that old church—the one with the boarded-up windows—is that the one out on Malvern Road?”

“I think so, yes.”

“Let’s put them all in order of closest to farthest, and we’ll start checking them out.” Mallory rose and grabbed her bag. “I’ll even let you drive.”

“Not so fast.” He grabbed her arm. “We need to call Joe and let him know what’s going on.”

“I’ll do that from the car. Come on.”

“And I’m not so sure we shouldn’t call for backup,” he said thoughtfully.

She laughed. “Backup from who? There’s no one on the Conroy police force I’d trust with my back, except for you. I think my chances for survival are better with Regina Girard than with any of my former fellows on the force.”

Charlie looked unconvinced.

“Besides,” she continued, “Joe isn’t likely to take anyone off the sniper case to follow us around the countryside on little more than a feeling that maybe the kids are hiding in one of these places. If he thinks we need backup, he’ll say so.”

It was a tough point to argue.

She was right about Joe not taking anyone off the sniper case, but not for the reason she assumed. When she called his office, she was told by a very excited Marlene that the chief was in city hall getting ready for a press conference.

“Haven’t you heard?” Marlene said excitedly. “They caught the sniper this morning!”

“No, I hadn’t heard. That’s wonderful. I’m sure the chief is relieved.”

“Oh, he’s beside himself,” Marlene went on. “It’s a shame they couldn’t have brought him in alive, but I doubt anyone’s going to be mourning this guy. He’s kept this city tied up like a pretzel for the last few weeks, scared the bejesus out of everyone, not to mention those folks he shot at.”

“Who was it?”

“Some homeless guy.”

“I’m glad that’s over with. I know it was a nightmare for everyone down there. I’ll try to get in touch with the chief myself, but just in case he’s not answering his cell, please let him know it’s important that we talk today. Tell him that Detective Wanamaker and I are checking out a few locations. He’ll know what it’s about.”

“Will do.” Marlene lowered her voice. “Mallory, are you all right? The chief told me what happened yesterday. Shame that girl had to get shot like that, and you being right there in the middle of it. And you not even being on duty anymore.”

“I’m okay, thanks for asking.”

“I was worried about you, Mal. You know that despite—”

“I do know, Marlene. And I appreciate it.”

“I have another call coming in, honey. I’ll let the chief know you called.”

“Thanks. Oh, and Marlene…who brought down the sniper?”

Marlene’s voice dropped even lower.

“That’s the crazy part, if you ask me. It was your old partner, Cal Whitman. Brought him down with one shot to the head.”

Mallory was quiet for a very long moment after closing the phone.

“What?” Charlie asked.

She told him the news.

“So what’s your problem with that?”

“Cal Whitman barely qualifies on the range every year.”

“Maybe he got lucky.”

“He’d have to have gotten real lucky.” She rolled down the window, and the light scent of wild roses wafted in. She leaned on the armrest and thought about Cal Whitman, and wondered if it was bitterness on her part that made her so skeptical. Maybe it had been a lucky shot.

And what did it matter, really, if the threat to the city was over and justice had been served?

It didn’t matter, she told herself. The important thing was that the sniper was off the streets and was no longer terrorizing Conroy.

Still, if she’d had to make a list of the cops least likely to bag the sniper, Whitman’s name would have been at the very top.

“I think we can eliminate the Townsends’ farm,” Charlie was saying as he drove farther into the countryside.

“Why?”

“Because people are living there, see?” He slowed the car and pulled to the side of the road. “There are several cars in the drive, and you can see the fields are being worked. I think it would be damned hard to be hiding out in a place like that. If you want to stop, I don’t have a problem with it, but I think it’s probably a waste of time.”

“I agree. We can always stop back there if we turn up empty at all the others. What’s the next closest?”

“Let me see the list.”

She handed it to him, and he studied it for a minute.

“The Sumner place is about sixteen, seventeen miles from here.” He gave back the list and started driving. “It’s out near Boone. Do you know that area?”

“I don’t.”

“I only remember it because we used to play against the high school out there in football.”

“That’s one advantage of having grown up in the area. You know how to find places and things.”

“If that doesn’t work out, we’ll move on to Lisfield and that barn Ryan spent so much time photographing. From there, I guess we’ll try the Hoffmans’ farm—that place was abandoned when I was a kid. I can’t imagine it’s been vacant all these years.”

“Well, they say the housing market’s tough.”

He smiled. “This is the place on the film that had all the little outbuildings.”

“All good places to hide, if you’re hiding out,” she noted, “though all those farms seemed to have a lot of little outbuildings.”

She rested her head back against the seat. “Where would you go, if you were hiding?”

“Me? I’d probably go to a city. The bigger the crowd, the easier it is to disappear into it. How about you? Where would you go?”

“I’d hide in plain sight.”

“That pretty much eliminates just about every place on our list,” he reminded her. “They’re all pretty much out of the way.”

A mile later, he made a right turn onto a dirt-and-gravel road. Mallory sat up, taking in the scenery. There was dense hedgerow on both sides of the road.

“This would be a good place to hide,” she said, and realized she was thinking out loud. “Who the hell would think to come looking for you here?”

“We did.”

There was a lane off to the left, and Charlie followed it all the way through woods to a clearing where a dilapidated farmhouse stood. As in the film, the paint was worn off the clapboard and the chimney tilted at an odd angle.

“Doesn’t look too safe, does it?” she noted.

“To Ryan and Courtney, just about anyplace probably looked safer than Conroy.”

“Good point.”

They got out of the car and began to look around. Charlie tested the steps leading up to the front of the house and found them soft, as were the deck boards on the porch. The front door pushed open with a good shove, and they stepped inside.

“If they’re staying here, they haven’t been in the front of the house.” Charlie pointed to the floor. “There’s an inch of dust, and it hasn’t been disturbed.”

“Maybe around the back.”

“We’ll walk around and look, but I doubt it. I can’t imagine being in a place like this for three or more weeks and not going through the entire house at least once.”

“Let’s check the back, then.”

They walked around to the rear of the house and found the back door open. There was evidence that some small animals—raccoons, most likely, or squirrels—had made themselves at home, but no sign of recent human habitation.

“We’ll take a look in the barn, but I don’t think this is the place,” Charlie told her.

One look inside proved he was most likely right. The roof had fallen in a long time ago.

“I don’t remember seeing that in the film,” Mallory remarked as they walked back to the car.

Charlie turned and stared at the barn.

“Because it wasn’t this farm,” he said. “The barn in the film definitely had a roof. This isn’t the place.”

“Charlie, do you think we’re just spinning our wheels?”

“Probably. If you have any better ideas, I’m all ears.”

“I don’t.”

“Well, then, doing something is better than nothing. Just my opinion, of course.”

When they were back on the road, Mallory asked, “How can people leave places like that to just rot? Especially places that could have some historical significance.”

“Maybe that was one of the reasons behind Ryan making the film he made. Maybe he was trying to bring these places to light, make sure they got some attention so that they could be preserved.”

“If they weren’t well known, where did he get his information? How did he even know about these old farms?”

“Good question.”

“Charlie, did you notice, in his credits, Ryan thanked someone for the stories,” she said. “Corina something.”

“Corina Rayburn?”

“That sounds right.”

“He thanked Corina Rayburn?”

“You know her?”

“Sort of. She’s Conroy’s unofficial historian. Every town has one. You know, one person who knows everyone who ever lived in every house, going back a couple of hundred years. In Miz Rayburn’s case, she probably did know everyone personally. She must be about nine hundred years old by now.” He stopped at a stop sign, then made a right turn onto the paved road that eventually would take them back to the four-lane they’d driven in on. “She used to come to the schools each year and talk to the kids at assembly, tell them about the people who settled the town. She said she was the great-granddaughter of runaway slaves, that’s how she knew so much about the subject, I guess.”